


Of Cabbages and Prairie Kings

by CaliforniaJones



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Gamer Abigail, Gamer Shane, Journey of the Prairie King, LGBTQ Character, M/M, NORMIE SEBASTIAN, No Farmer AU, Only One Bed, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, abigail eating rocks, gaming convention, i plan on upping the rating should i get to that point in the story and it's indeed Smutty, let me be SOFT motherfuckers, remember conventions? remember going places?? remember people?!?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28524849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliforniaJones/pseuds/CaliforniaJones
Summary: Wherein Shane is *scary good* at Journey of the Prairie King, and Sebastian uses that as an excuse to take him to a tournament in Zuzu City. He gets more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Sebastian/Shane (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

Sebastian heard Abigail screaming far before he saw her. In fact, he should have turned on his heel and started walking in the opposite direction as soon as he caught a glimpse of her through the window of the Stardrop Saloon, vigorously shaking the whole Journey of the Prairie King cabinet, but some foolish part of his curiosity felt the need to unravel whatever mysterious force was the cause of such an outburst. Truly, he was a regular Inspector Sebby.

"Sebastian, thank goodness you're here," Gus breathed. "Please talk some sense into her. She says she's using the pickaxe tonight if-"

Sebastian drew a chunk of quartz from the pocket of his hoodie and picked off the lint clinging to the facets. It was such an outlandish action, it stopped Gus in his tracks. He threw up his hands. "You know what? I'm not going to ask."

Abigail was rifling through a gym bag and in the process of pulling out, yes, a comically oversized pickaxe when Sebastian held the quartz under her nose. It immediately placated her, and with a flutter of her eyelids, she took the mineral and popped it in her mouth, thoroughly serene.

"Abby," Sebastian began. His voice took on the low tone characteristic of the taller, gruffer bikers in the clubs he visited back when the war hadn't skyrocketed the price of gas. "Talk to me. Why were you abusing Journey of the Prairie King?"

She rolled the quartz in her mouth and sucked, letting her cheeks go concave around the lump before speaking. Sebastian couldn't remember when he found out about this little cheat code, but ever since, it was the fastest way to get a straight answer out of her. "Someone's beating me," she said. Abigail read the question in his expression and answered. "Their handle's 'SHN-PT.' I first noticed it appearing on the global scoreboards a month ago." She twirled in the arcade chair and pointed to the screen, where that same handle appeared, bright and shining in bold, pixelated characters. "At first I thought it was funny, so I spent a while grinding through some stages and putting myself back on top. Just to show 'em who's the _real_ Prairie King around here."

"Queen," Sebastian corrected.

She threw up a hand. "I'm not done." Abigail hopped off the seat and instead chose to splay herself out wide over the pool table, much to Gus' chagrin, but she didn't seem to care about his grumbling. "Then it got worse. Pretty soon, I had to keep my eyes peeled, otherwise, this bozo hopped back on the scoreboards every chance he got!" 

Sebastian rolled his eyes and play-bonked the side of her head. "So get good, twerp."

"I'm trying! But look at that score, I've been trying to beat 'em all day, but-" And with that, she let out a disgruntled exhale. "If this guy keeps it up, he's gonna steal my spot at the tournament!"

"Tournament?" By God, the game was that popular? The idea of a whole tournament dedicated to that slog of a game was nauseating in and of itself, and that was without considering the sort of people who'd go to such an event. 

Abigail didn't seem amused with the disdain lacing his voice. "Uhh, hello? PrairieCon in Zuzu City? Have you been listening to me at all for the last month? It's all I've been talking about."

By God, there was a whole convention? Sebastian grimaced at the idea, at least initially, but the memory of Zuzu City in the spring, when the cherry blossoms bloomed along the Korrin River Walk was a fond one. He needed to visit sometime soon, while they were still in season. "I recommend you take a breather. How long have you been at it tonight?" 

She blinked slowly. "Wouldn't you like to know, megadork?"

He smirked. "Get some rest. Carpal tunnel's no joke. Trust me on that." He rubbed at his own wrist, the memory of a sweaty ergonomic bracer still fresh in his mind.

She sighed. "Sadly, you're right." And with one last suckle at the quartz, she hopped off the table and scooped up her belongings. The pickaxe, she heaved over her shoulder as she stepped out of the arcade, but a few seconds later, she returned, placing it under the pool table.

"Actually, I'll leave it. I might need it tomorrow if this guy doesn't let up." 

When she was out of sight, Gus scooped up the ridiculous pickaxe and expressed his eternal gratitude to Sebastian, who only nodded and Sebastian and stared at the score board flashing on the Prairie King cabinet's scuffed-up plastic barrier.

SHN-PT. Shane. Pelican Town. It might have been simple coincidence, but Sebastian had noticed Shane walking around town without that familiar glassy sheen to his eyes he carried after a night drinking, yet the guy was still headed south from the town square around the same time every night. It very well could have been nothing, but roused his suspicions. And frankly, it'd be kind of funny if Shane of all people was driving Abby the Gamer Girl into a perfect conniption.

Inspector Sebby indeed.

He held the stout to his mouth without drinking, and felt the foam bubble and fizzle out against his upper lip. He decided he'd talk to Shane in the morning. And with that, he washed the funny taste of the situation down along with the rest of that ridiculous evening.


	2. Chapter 2

Sebastian hadn't actually prepared what he was going to say when Shane himself appeared. He enjoyed the thrill of having unwrapped a cute little secret he shouldn't have been privy to. To know that his inkling was correct. So when Shane actually answered the door, Sebastian found himself a bit speechless.

"You looking for Marnie?" Shane asked, his eyebrows furrowed in an inscrutable expression.

Sebastian sucked in a breath and gingerly rubbed the back of his head, as he often did when faced with this variety of discomfort. "No. I was hoping for you, actually," he said, bracing himself. "I know you're 'SHN-PT.' Can we talk?"

There were better ways to have broached the topic. This was evidenced by Shane's knee-jerk reaction, which was to slam the door in Sebastian's face. Or rather, his _attempt_ to slam the door in Sebastian's face; Sebastian's immediate response was to throw himself through the door before it could seal shut, which led to a dull _thwap_ as Shane caught Sebastian's bony frame with the door's edge. One duet of screaming and a ridiculous squabble at the doorframe later, Sebastian was sitting on the couch, nursing the welt on his torso with a chilled two-liter of Joja Cola.

Marnie’s home smelled like moist hay and loam, a staunch contrast to the isoprobylic sterility of his own home, a sterility that began its steady encroachment on Sebastian’s dominion ever since Demetrius and Maru had come to the valley. Shane’s family was a broken and little one, one struggling with a breed of irreconcilable loss Sebastian only caught glimpses of without fully understanding. But despite the sorrow plainly visible even in the sullen hunch of their shoulders, in their movements, in Marnie's tendency to stare at the microwave for hours on end, Marnie, Jas, and Shane's house felt like a real home. Or at least, it certainly felt more like a home than the stuffy laboratory his was slowly becoming. Cruelly, Sebastian wondered how someone raised surrounded by this sort of warmth could allow himself to become besotted with the drink’s siren song, but Sebastian remembered himself, shunting the thought. He hardly knew the man. It wasn’t his place to judge. 

"So," Shane asked. "We're talking."

"Yeah. We are." Half of Sebastian's body was numb, so he set the sweating bottle on the ground and let it roll out of sight. It was someone else's problem now.

"Are you gonna sick Abigail on me? Gus let me in on the details of her… episode. I've been waiting for her to knife me on my walk home."

"No. I just-" Sebastian couldn't respond. He wasn't certain why he'd stuck around once his suspicions about SHN-PT had been confirmed. So the next question came as a surprise to both of them. "Did you get an invitation to PraireCon?"

Shane wet his lips and drew a mobile phone from the pocket of his oversized hoodie. The screen flashed with an image of a landing page for PrairieCon’s registration page, the logo bearing a slightly-off center font that made Sebastian think he’d go insane if he stared too long. He flicked to an icon of an envelope. An invitation. “I’d like to go, but-“

“Then go.”

The response must have been too quick for Shane, because a quizzical expression graced his face. “I haven’t even explained.”

“No need. You said you’d like to go. So go,” Sebastian said. PrairieCon sounded like a nightmare scenario, a carnival of all the toxic geeks and drolleries that drove him away from fandom to begin with. But he hadn't even considered the possibility of someone not competing in a tournament if they were invited to one, even if it was for an overrated video game. Sebastian didn't have to understand the appeal of _that_ game to understand there was value in doing what you enjoyed. Hell, his own family had given him too much grief about programming for him to not empathize. Shane was obviously good at the game. To imagine him skipping the festivities was almost absurd.

It was Shane's turn to scratch his head. “It’s just- I haven’t been to the city in so long, and, and I-“

“Sounds like you’re making excuses.” 

"They're not excuses. The city's far, and it'll be festive. Marnie's busy that weekend. I won't have Marnie - she won't be there to- " He couldn't finish the phrase, but Sebastian could guess how it ended based on the way his fists were balled. He couldn't risk relapsing.

He provided a solution. "I'll come with you. Keep you straight and narrow." He rose and gave Shane a little _pat-pat_ on the cheek. "There. Now you have no excuse."

"Don't you have work?"

Sebastian shrugged. "For me, work is a laptop and a good Wi-Fi connection. Clear your calendar. Book a room. If that convention is even half-decent, they should have a list of hotels offering discounts."

He was nearly out the door when Shane took a firm hold of his shoulder and spun him back around so they faced each other. ( _The guy's grip is strong_ , he thought, idly). They shared a look that pierced, and for a second they just stood there amid the crooning of livestock in the nearby pens and the sunlit heat. "Why are you doing this?" Shane asked.

Before he could reply, the sound of carbonated gushing rang out and there was a tiny scream. An immediate panic swept over Shane and he leapt out of sight. "Jas?!"

Wet, plodding footfalls followed. Sebastian peeked into the house again and caught a glimpse of Shane, rushing out of the kitchen with a wet dishcloth, and Jas, completely drenched in Joja Cola, the two-liter still clutched in her chubby hands.

She was. Well. _Displeased_ , to say the least. "Who shook this cola?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter's where the FUN begins and by FUN i mean ROAD TRIP


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian and Shane drive to Zuzu City.

"Checked the oil?"

Sebastian examined the amber line, layered between two notches on the dipstick between his fingers. "Mmh."

"Water?"

Enough to reach the top, near the plastic cap. Sebastian gave a thumbs up from below the hood of the sedan.

"Gas?"

"You think I'd forget to gas up before we go?" Sebastian remarked.

Shane drew his hands up defensively. "Thought I'd ask."

Dawn's light tickled the edge of the valley while the air was still crisp with the cool kiss of prelight ambiance. It was the sort of morning laced with the feeling that buzzed bright in your bones. A feeling plucked from the same vine as packing into a bus for a field trip, pulling out the keys to your front door after catching whispered snatches of plans for a surprise party, catching the other person as they're about to come in for a hug. Anticipation and exhilaration, rolled into one. Sebastian couldn’t say he'd been expecting these. If anything, the realization that he and Shane would have to drive Marnie's jalopy of a sedan for 8 hours to get to Zuzu City should have filled him with dread. Normally, it _would_ have. But to his own shock and dull horror, the day before the convention, Sebastian found his hands jittery and his demeanor outright _giddy_.

Why? The tournament wasn't his to celebrate. Moreover the actual guest of honor, Shane himself, seemed downright nonplussed.

Sebastian watched his movements through the garage, slow and unbothered, picking through cola-stained receipts and dirty pennies scattered through the cupholders, as if he'd rather be anywhere else. Hmm. He wasn't sure if Abigail and Sam's manic energy had poisoned his conception of what "excitement" looked like, or if Shane was... _bored_. Or tired.

"You sure you're not gonna fall asleep at the wheel?" Sebastian asked.

Shane quirked an eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"

"I just figured you'd be more excited is all. I know I am - it's been too long since I visited the city."

It was easy to imagine the city in springtime, when cherry blossoms bloomed along the city's Slate Embankment - the water walk along the edge of the river, where night life bustled and the best of his youthful memories were stored. It was a special place: when he sat under the right bench, if the breeze was _just_ right, he could _almost_ remember the feeling of his father's tough hands tousling his hair and the warm scent of motor oil he carried with him wherever he went.

Maybe he'd take Shane, if only to help him avoid some con crud. Get him out of the hotel. Speaking of which…

"You booked a room, right?"

The other man grunted, placing the last of their luggage in the back seat of the car - the trunk was stuck. "Economy suite. There's a bed and a pull-out."

"Wow, you really pulled out all the stops for little old me." The sarcasm seemed lost on Shane, because the man's face twisted into something like reddening mortification.

"Kidding," Sebastian clarified. Apparently, Shane didn't speak Sarcasm.

"Right." Shane threw open the sedan door and strapped himself in, reached back around, and pulled out a bag filled with an assortment of vile road snacks. He gave Sebastian a premature squint of the eye. "Don't judge. Gotta make the time pass quick somehow."

"I'm not. Do you have any idea what Sam's dinners usually consist of? It'd made your spread look like amateur hour."

A handful of chips - sour cream and onion, if the garish green and yellow on the bag and the sharp tang in the air were any indication - muffled Shane's response. "Mph." Swallow. "Now can we get this thing rolling, please?"

Rude. Sebastian rolled his eyes as they rolled out and started their drive. Three days. Three days, he'd spend with this guy in Zuzu City. Light filtered through the interstices of the canopy as they drove through the woods, dappling the car in kaleidoscopic patterning. Then they hit the highway.

Why was he so giddy, again?

\--

Hours passed. They'd spent them making small talk, proceeding with all the usual formalities:

_What's your work like?_

"Work? Hardly." The man's arms were crossed across his chest in something like indignance. "I do all the heavy lifting around the ranch, but I wouldn't call that work. That's just. Packmuling, I guess. Nothing fulfilling in it."

Sebastian could relate. Most web design was plug and play, at its core. At its best, a contract felt like a puzzle, something he could work his mind over while the clock ticked away. Time passed quickly, if he was lucky. But a bad contract just made him feel like an unnecessary level of abstraction. " _I don't understand why you didn't just build this in Mocha. These patches wouldn't be necessary if that had been the case,_ " he'd messaged some overseas firm lead. Must've upset her; the gal never ended up paying him.

Silence permeated the space. A tourist attraction whizzed by - building-sized junimo sculptures, doubling as museums. One was dressed up in a silly blossom-shaped hat, for the upcoming holiday. They didn't stop, it just faded to a point in Seb's rearview.

Finally, Shane spoke again. "The chickens are great, though. I never tire of those guys. They're like little people, but better."

_Where'd you grow up?_

They were passing farmland now - not like the farms in the valley proper, all small and varied and covered in mists and magic. These were monocultures, big corporate farms used to fill warehouse-sized outlets and fill the plates of armed forces and sell for massive profits. Farms where the earth crumbled and you could feel the life withering away between your fingers.

"I'm from the Northgate Borough in Zuzu, actually. Kinda crummy. Shared an apartment with our uncle n' his kids," Shane said. Now that he mentioned it, it was unmistakable now - the thick rhoticity to his cadence. Sebastian couldn't figure out how he'd missed it before.

"Till when? You must've been older if I can still hear the accent in your voice."

The other man almost chuckled. Almost. "Must've been fifteen. We moved just after… after I had my first crush."

Huh.

_Who was your first crush?_

There were nerves in the laugh he let out. "You'd never believe me."

Sebastian's eyes were fixed on the road, but his brow quirked. "Try me."

He sucked in a breath. "Now, don't you go givin' me crap for this, kid." Palm over his hand, came out half-muffled. "Some guy named Jimmy Kendricks. He played gridball, and I was dumb enough to join the team just to get to know him better."

Sebastian blinked. "What?"

"See, told ya you wouldn't believe me."

_… Son of a gun, he was right_ , Sebastian mused. "Huh. Alright. Wouldn't have guessed-"

"What, that I'm a _queer_?" It was a hiss in his mouth. Accusatory, like he expected Sebastian to swerve directly into traffic when he made the realization.

Yoba-Loba, who'd hurt this guy?

"I was going to say ' _I wouldn't have guessed that's what got you into gridball._ ' Says the fellow queer."

Sebastian gave Shane a look; Shane looked out the window, head in his hand, fingers obscuring whatever quirk of embarrassment his lips would have betrayed.

Sebastian spoke. "World's pretty big, Shane. You'd know that if you, you know, struck up a conversation with people now and then."

"Says the shut-in." Snappy comeback, but even so, the apology ran latent in the way he said it. Oh yeah, this guy was _definitely_ from Zuzu City.

"He didn't respond too kindly when he found out about it."

"Shit man, I'm sorry to hear."

Shane waved a hand disparagingly. "It's been more than a decade. I'm fine now. Honest."

They went on that way until those simple questions were exhausted and the two were left staring as the farmland became rockier and the road began to incline. The sedan truly had the Little AC that could, pumping furiously and sputtering up the mountainside. He kept turning it off, only for Shane to turn it back on a few minutes later when the air got stuffy. Sebastian had to explain how friggin' bad that was for the whole unit mid-drive. Halfway through the explanation, Sebastian noticed the color in Shane's face when he turned his head to look at him.

Funny. Shane's look was like a deer in headlights.

"Getting bored?" Sebastian teased.

"… I've gotta take a leak."

"There's a rest stop here," he replied, pointing to one of the highway signs indicating a stop a few miles out.

It was little more than a bathroom, a parking lot, and a payphone semi-circled by the few pines left untouched by loggers, but it was enough. Shane threw off his zip-up and dragged a hand over his face as he made a bolt for the brick and mortar structure Sebastian could nearly smell from where he stood. He looked at his watch: three in the afternoon. Eleven thirty A.M. Five hours of driving, three more to go.

Sebastian whipped out the key to the trunk and pulled off his hoodie, getting ready to toss it in the trunk. The top popped open, and there he found Shane's suitcase, a few cases of instant ramen, a cooler, and Jaz - red-faced and squinting against the sudden onslaught of harsh midday sunlight.

"Jaz?!"

"Sebby!" She looked ridiculously chipper despite the sweat pouring down her face. "Are we in Zuzu City yet? It was hot in there!"

Oh.

Oh shit, Shane was going to kill him.

"Jaz?"

Speak of the devil, Shane stood at the other end of the parking lot - toilet paper clinging to his shoe. Obviously. Full-on bolt. Obviously. Sebastian flinched, shielding his face, but - no, not obviously, Shane didn't immediately kick his ass. Instead, he scooped Jaz out and uncapped a bottle of water from the cooler, pouring it over Sebastian's hoodie and wiping her face down with it. (Well, better the hoodie be a casualty than his own ass).

"Jaz, what're you doing here? Were you in the trunk this whole time? Do you know how stupid that is?"

"You always said you'd take me to the city! But you never have! What was I supposed to do?"

"Oh, sweetie," he cooed. "No, no, this is a convention for grown ups! We have to get you home."

Sebastian grimaced. "We… can't do that."

Jaz beamed. Shane didn't. "Why not?"

"Check in's at 9pm."

"It's a hotel, you can check in whenever."

"No, for the _convention_. You have to be there for the opening ceremony tonight. Didn't you read the fine print?"

"That's - " Shane sighed, defeated. No, there wasn't a way to drive back to Pelican Town, then back, and make it in time for the initial proceedings. "Then what're we gonna do with her? I ain't having you hang around those wackos and gettin' sick. Marnie'll have a conniption. Hell, she's probably having one _now_."

"She's probably staring at a microwave, Shane. It's fine - Jaz is here. I have a few pals in the city we can leave her with if you're not comfortable leaving her in the Kids' Corner at the con."

Shane narrowed his eyes. "Who?"

"… The Zuzu Hill Motor Club."

"Oh, you've _got_ to be kidding me. The _motorcycle_ gang?!"

"Hey hey hey, they aren't bad guys! They do kids' events all the time. Raise money for charity. That sorta thing."

Shane huffed. "Jaz ain't gonna like that."

"Actually, that sounds neat!"

Both men squinted at her.

"… I'm like an onion. I have many layers."

"You stole that from Shrek."

"Yes."

Well. _Okay then_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, sorry I've taken so long to update. School's kicking my ass! Amazing! I also didn't proof this! Amazing!


End file.
